


The Wanted Man

by Lusciousinpain



Series: Hot Spies In Love [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Blow Jobs, Lies, M/M, Manipulation, Mentions of Rape, Misunderstandings, PWP, Pining, Secrets, Self-Esteem Issues, Shame, Spies, sex in the men's room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-22 18:31:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14314629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lusciousinpain/pseuds/Lusciousinpain
Summary: Dean put aside his trepidation in favor of more pressing matters, like the thrill of tasting himself on Cas' tongue. So he leaned in for his kiss, whispered, "Come here sweetheart-" and got pushed away in return.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean put aside his trepidation in favor of more pressing matters, like the thrill of tasting himself on Cas' tongue. So he leaned in for his kiss, whispered, "Come here sweetheart-" and got pushed away in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This third installment of my 'Hot Spies in Love' series, is mainly centered around Castiel and Dean's 'first' meeting. There's also a bit of backstory on Castiel and what makes him tick. It's written in the past tense, so it was a little tricky for me, but I hope it makes sense, and you were able to follow the storyline along. 
> 
> Let me know what you think: if you liked it, hated it, if you found it boring, or fun, if I need to pick up the pace, blah blah blah…
> 
> You get the gist.

Three days ago:

8:15 am 

It was the best blow-job of Dean's life, with the after effects (a muddled head and tender dick) lingering long seconds after his climax. 

"Cas," he exhaled, high from the endorphins surging through his veins, "that was..." _Amazing! Perfect!_ "really nice." He said instead, cringing at how lame and inadequate that sounded. But it was either that, or dropping down on one knee and proposing on the spot. Dean decided on the latter, he didn’t want to scare Cas away.

But Castiel was beyond caring. "It was." He moaned, head bobbing while suckling Dean's softening length, fingers digging into the hard muscle of Dean's thighs.

And Dean responded in kind: groaning and grunting like a porn star. "Cas," he begged, licking his lips, reaching out to card trembling fingers though Castiel's silky strands, "you're fucking killing me." 

Castiel smiled, fondled Dean's balls, wrapped his tongue around Dean's dick, and sucked. He never liked being called 'Cas' before, but not only did he love the anonymity it afforded him at that moment, but also the way it sounded falling from Dean's lips, wrecked and needy; Castiel could live off of those sounds. "Dean..." He moaned again, just as wreaked, just as hungry, lapping wetly at the pink tip of Dean's dick and then swallowing him down.

"Oh my god-" Dean gasped, head falling back and thumping against the locked bathroom door. "Keep that up," he warned, fingers gripping tighter, the pain-pleasure making Castiel moan louder, "and you're gonna have to stick around for round two." 

Castiel replied by pressing his face flush against Dean's groin and sucking as if he were starving, slurping then gagging as Dean's length thickened in his throat.

"Holy fuck!" Dean cried, back arching, body thrumming. "I swear to god, you're gonna kill me." 

"No." Castiel rasped, loving every second. But in his enthusiasm, he choked and had to pull off. Dean's dick slipped free with a wet pop and he grinned, tongue poking out to lick every delicious drop of Dean's cum from his lips. "I'm still not done with you." 

"Is, is that so?" Dean challenged, panting as if he'd been running, grinning like a dope. "That mean you wanna keep me around?" He asked, bending over to pull Castiel up for an open mouth kiss.

Castiel rose fluidly, willingly, both men gasping when their cocks brushed. "As a matter of fact..." Castiel said, fingers wrapping around Dean's dick and pumping it slowly, gently, gazing deeply into Dean's eyes, "I do." 

Dean's heart nearly burst with joy upon hearing those words, but their meaning terrified him in equal measure. _'How can it be?'_ He asked himself, wondering how he could have developed romantic feelings so quickly, and for a complete stranger. It made no sense.

And yet, there was a familiarity about Cas that Dean couldn't quite put his finger on - a niggling sense of déjà vu, a connection that seemed to deepen the longer they spent in each other's company. It was as if they had already met before. But that was impossible; there was no way Dean would have forgotten a face like Cas'. He's never been _that_ drunk.

 _Aw, fuck it._

Dean put aside his trepidation in favor of more pressing matters, like the thrill of tasting himself on Cas' tongue. So he leaned in for his kiss, whispered, "Come here sweetheart-" and got pushed away in return. "Wha-" he gasped, rubbing at his chest. 

Castiel didn't say a word, but glared, fury replacing the desire that had seconds before lit his eyes a brilliant blue (and melted away all of Dean's defenses) with a cold, hard, blankness, that chilled Dean to the bone.

Dean scrambled to make sense of what had just happened. Cas rebuffed him, but why? Could it be that it was all just an act? 

Dean snorted, bit his lip, he felt like a fool. Of course it was an act. How could he have thought otherwise? "Idiot." He muttered under his breath, tucking himself away then plastering a strained smile on his face, before joining Castiel by the sinks. 

...

Dean was a jittery mess of mixed emotions on the inside, but he did his best to exude an air of cool and unaffected, and hoped to hell that Castiel fell for it.

He made small talk, mostly meaningless nonsense to ease his own nerves, but avoided any eye contact. It was awkward as hell, made all the more painful by the fact that Castiel was doing a damn thorough job of washing away any evidence of their brief encounter.

For his part, Castiel didn't offer a nod or a grunt of acknowledgment, not a single word slipped from his lips. He simply continued washing his hands, bumping elbows with Dean every so often, even slumping slightly against him at one point.

It was maddening; Cas' nearness and the deliberateness of his touches, made the small hairs on the back of Dean's neck, stand on end. And again, Dean faltered; he had to give it another shot.

"Hey…ah, Cas," Dean said, dropping the bullshit and getting to the heart of the matter; he needed to find out what he'd done wrong, but didn't know if could stand to see the look of disgust on Castiel's face again. But Dean was a big boy and a good sport (and that sure-as-shit wasn't his first blow job in the men's john) so he steeled himself, looked up, and promptly forgot everything he was about to say.

"Yes, Dean?" Castiel replied, holding Dean's gaze with wide eyes, mouth soft and kissable.

Dean answered by grabbing Castiel with wet hands, leaning in close, and asking, "How about we go get a drink tonight?" 

Castiel shook his head, no, but his eyes said differently; Dean saw heat and want in their blue depths, but also something he couldn't quite decipher: longing, sadness, resignation...hope. 

But the moment was short lived, and all too soon Castiel had pulled free and started heading for the door. He murmured something over his shoulder, it might have been _'I'm sorry.'_ , but Dean couldn't be sure. What he was sure about, was the fact that if he didn't at least get Cas' phone number, he'd regret it for the rest of his life. 

"Cas, wait." Dean blurted, spinning Castiel by the shoulders and pulling him into his arms. 

Castiel initially tensed, but then quickly relaxed and returned Dean's embrace. 

Dean's body flooded with relief; he'd been afraid he'd read the signals wrong, but Cas was pliable in his arms and it was more than Dean could have hoped for. "So," he said in a soft whisper, brushing his lips against Cas' cheek, "how about that drink? Huh? Let me take you out on a real date."

Castiel ran his hands up and down Dean's back for a beat (eliciting a happy little hum from Dean) but then inexplicably snorted, "I don't think so."

_Ouch!_

Dean stilled, and this time, he was the one that pulled away. He'd be lying if he said those words didn't hurt, but there was no way in hell he was going to let Cas know that. So he smirked instead, and with a deceptively cavalier drawl replied, "Come on baby, at least give me a chance to return the favor."

"Dean," Castiel exhaled, motioning between them with a casual wave of his hand, "this was…fun, but I don't think seeing each other again, would be a good idea."

Dean had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting, _'Why the hell not?'_ "Dude," he snorted instead, cocky, "it's not like I'm asking you to marry me." He laughed, but it was hollow. "Just wanted to get a taste of that gorgeous cock of yours." He whisper-teased, grinning triumphantly when Castiel's eyes grew dark and his hands returned to Dean's hips.

"Here," Dean said, fishing a business card from his pocket and handing it to Castiel, "gimme a call if you change your mind." And with that, he slipped out of Castiel's grasp and walked back to the sinks.

Castiel took the card, but tucked it away without looking at it. He meant to throw it right into the trash, but he didn't want to hurt Dean's feelings anymore than was necessary.

"So how about it?" Dean pressed, wondering what it was about Cas that made him want to throw caution to the wind and follow, not just his dick, but also his, _gulp_ , heart, "You can say no if you're not interested." He shrugged. "But it'd be your loss, darlin. I mean, it's not like you're the only-" 

The door clicked shut and Dean spun around. "Bye, Cas." He muttered, turning the faucet off then slamming his fist hard against the cold porcelain. It hurt, but Dean welcomed the pain; it was easier to focus on his throbbing hand, than his aching heart. And far safer.

He finished drying off, then checked his reflection. Dean laughed at what he saw. He'd been so stupid, so naïve, and misjudged the whole situation, so spectacularly. 

In the end, Cas _was_ just like all of the rest, with his feigned interest lasting only long enough to get into Dean's pants. Dean was just another notch on his belt. A momentary distraction. An easy lay. A casual fuck. And nothing more. 

Just like all of the rest. 

Same old, same old.

And not special in the least.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel couldn't get out of there fast enough. 

"What have I done?" He hissed at himself, muttering expletives for his appalling lack of good judgement. 

_Sex in the men's room?_

Not only was it pathetically cliché, but also stupid and incredibly dangerous; that it was also the best sexual encounter of his dismal life, was beside the point, and just plain wrong. Period.

But his attraction to Dean had been immediate, like a punch to the solar plexus, and their chemistry, off the charts. What happened next was inevitable: Castiel floundered, lost his footing, and reacted like a love struck fool under some sort of magic spell.

 _'Yes',_ Castiel stupidly thought, _'that must have been it.'_ Dean cast a spell over him (much like Rowena's witches were prone to do to their prey) and he had been powerless against it.

Castiel huffed a bitter laugh at that; witchcraft had nothing to do with what he did. He was already under Dean's spell. Had been for years.

 _Special Agent, Dean Winchester._

Castiel recognized the FBI agent the moment their eyes connected; he'd seen enough photographs and surveillance footage of the brash, yet exceptionally talented young man, to be able to spot him anywhere. Yet despite the hundreds of images Castiel had sifted through, not one had done Dean justice.

He was breathtaking up close.

But it wasn't just Dean's pretty face and perfect body that spurred Castiel to act on his impulses, it was also Dean's shy glances and self-assured swagger that disarmed, yet thoroughly charmed, Castiel into action. Everything else he had learned about Dean - his past tragedies, his perseverance in the face of horrific circumstances - played no part in Castiel's attraction to him. Whatsoever.

At least that's what Castiel liked to tell himself. He refused to believe that his, for lack of a better word, 'obsession' with Dean was fueled by the fact that he was not only the best agent Castiel had ever studied, but also a survivor, a loyal friend, and a fierce warrior. Someone wholly worthy of his admiration. 

It's the reason he left Dean as abruptly as he had. Castiel knew that if he had lingered any longer, he'd never want to part from Dean's side. Ever. Castiel would have abandon his duties, his responsibilities, and his family. All of them. Willingly. It was therefore imperative that he put as much distance between himself and Dean Winchester as he could, or risk losing himself.

...

Castiel reached his car, pulled out of the parking lot at break neck speed (tires screeching angrily on the asphalt) and drove away as if fleeing from a crime scene. 

_'No one could ever find out'._ He told himself, especially his brothers. If they did...well, Castiel wasn't sure what they would do, but it wouldn't be good. They'd most likely cast him from the family, and probably kill Dean.

But then again...maybe not.

Maybe Castiel was overreacting. Maybe he was being unfair to his brothers. His family was ruthless, true, but they were also supportive. 

Castiel snorted, he was so pathetic. Even if he did have their blessing, it still wouldn't work; romantic relationships in his profession, were out of the question. Not only would a romance put his family in great peril, but his partner as well. And even though Castiel cared little for his own safety, he cared a great deal about his family's, and Dean's. 

_Dean_

Eyes glued on the road, Castiel raked shaky fingers through his hair, eyes growing glassy when he recalled the tenderness of Dean's words. _'Sweetheart'_ he'd said. Castiel's heart felt ready to burst when he heard that. But instead of simply enjoying the endearment, empty though it was, Castiel grew angry and pushed Dean away. 

_'How could Dean be so cruel?'_ Castiel had thought. _'So careless with my heart?'_ It was obvious that Dean didn't recognize him, but it was also crystal clear that he'd done _that_ sort of thing before. Castiel couldn't help but wonder how many strangers Dean had treated in the same manner, with the same tenderness, and it made him jealous. It was best he never found out. He'd most likely end up traveling cross-country on some kind of jealousy-fueled killing spree, if he did.

He really was pathetic. 

__

Castiel laughed at himself, muttered, "Definitely best I never find out-"

__

"Find out what?"

__

Castiel jumped so high his head hit the car's ceiling. "Gabriel!" He snapped, so wrapped up in thoughts of Dean and 'what ifs', that he'd completely forgotten his brother was in the car. 

__

"I...what are you..." Castiel frowned, he'd been caught off guard and that angered him; he'd never been so distracted. "Never mind." He scowled, turning his attention back to the road.

__

"Right..." Gabriel nodded, brow quirked. "Soooo," he said, noting the tense line of his brother's jaw, "what the heck took you so long?" 

__

Castiel didn't reply. 

__

Gabriel nodded again, smacked his lips, "Okay, then." He said, breaking the tension with a low whistle. "So you're not going to tell me?" 

__

Castiel continued to ignore his brother; as far as he was concerned, there was nothing to tell. So he tuned Gabriel out, and turned his thoughts back to the reason they were in that damn town in the first place: to track down and kill, Alastair Daemon. 

__

"Did you just have sex?" Gabriel asked, face scrunched in a grimace. 

__

The shock nearly drove them off the road. "Did you follow me?" Castiel growled, hand whipping out so fast it knocked Gabriel back. 

__

"Groff-" Gabriel croaked, shoving hard at Castiel. But he needn't have bothered, Castiel immediately released him then started mumbling apologies.

__

"I'm sorry." Castiel said, tone steely despite the slight tremor in his hands. "I...over reacted."

__

"You think?" Gabriel shot back, rubbing dramatically at his neck. "You know," he griped, checking for injuries in the review mirror, "you should really do something about that temper of yours!"

__

Gabriel was right, lately Castiel had been more on edge than he had been since, well...Castiel had never been _that_ on edge. Ever.

__

"And for your information," Gabriel continued, pointing an accusatory finger in Castiel's face, "I don't need to follow you to know what you've been up to, little brother. You're not exactly subtle. Your shirt's all wet! And you stink like cum! So don't flatter yourself!"

__

Castiel turned bright red. "Can we just...drop it?" He asked, eyes back on the road.

__

"Drop it?" Gabriel mocked; he was just getting started. "Bro," he warned, scrutinizing Castiel with a critical eye, "I'm just getting started." 

__

Castiel slumped in his seat. "Fine." He exhaled, rubbing at his temple. "What do you want to know?"

__

"Well, for starters, did you have sex? And was it with the hot guy ogling you from the counter?" 

__

Castiel's jaw clenched, "There were several men at the counter." 

__

"Oh my god, you did!" Gabriel gasped, taking Castiel's pathetic attempt at deflection as an affirmation. "You had sex with Dean Winchester. What the heck were you thinking?"

__

This time the car swerved so hard, they ended up in a ditch. "You saw Dean? And you didn't warn me?" 

__

"Dean?" Gabriel scoffed, eyebrow cocked. "Seems to me like you didn't need any warning." 

__

Castiel glowered, eyes narrowing at his brother's cheekiness. 

__

"Come on," Gabriel countered, grinning right back, "you totally saw him when he first walked in. I saw you checking him out. There's no way you didn't recognize him." 

__

"Of course I recognized him." Spat Castiel, murder in his eyes. "What kind of fool do you take me for-"

__

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

__

Castiel's glower deepened, "This was all your fault."

__

"Me? How...how, is any of this my fault?"

__

"Because of your constant nagging at me to 'get some'!" Castiel argued, but it was a paltry excuse, at best; no one forced him to lure Dean to the men's room and then drop to his knees. That was all on him. "You pushed me to go out and, and...find-"

__

"Whoa," Gabriel cut in, hand up to stop Castiel mid-sentence, "I just wanted you to go out and find someone to have little bit of fun with. You know, fool around, drain the pipes. But I didn't mean for you to bump uglies with the first available guy you came across. And I definitely didn't mean for it to be with Dean Winchester."

__

Castiel put the car back in gear, and got back on the road, tight lipped and frowning, he was tired of arguing. 

__

"Cassie," Gabriel whined, he hated when his brother was angry with him, "I was just trying to help. You know, push you to take care of your urges more often so you wouldn't do something stupid again."

__

"Well it appears that your plan backfired."

__

"Yeah, no kidding." Gabriel agreed, adding, "Still, dipping your stick into Dean Winchester isn't nearly as bad as that time you went out with that girl. You know which one I mean. The nut job that wanted to carve your heart out. What was her name again?"

__

"April." 

__

"That's her!" Gabriel cried, snapping his fingers. "Anyway, the way you acted when you were with her, is the same squirrelly way you're acting right now."

__

Castiel bristled. He hated the fact that he'd been so transparent, but he loathed being the object of his brother's scrutiny, even more. 

__

"And when Mike found out she nearly killed you..." Gabriel visibly shuddered, memories of Michael's wrath in the aftermath, was an experience he never wanted to relive, "...man oh man, Crowley's crew still haven't found all of her bits."

__

Castiel flinched at the reminder and Gabriel noticed, eyes growing stormy when he remembered how terrified he'd been when they found Castiel hogtied and bleeding at the hands of another assassin. "Look," Gabriel said, "sorry I brought it up, but we were really worried about you. And you can blame me all you want, but screwing around with a federal agent is just the sort of stupid thing we were worried you'd end up doing after another long dry spell." 

__

Castiel still said nothing, he simply drove on, straight-backed and silent. It made Gabriel laugh.

__

"Hey, sorry for being so hard on you. Okay? I mean, at least it wasn't Meg." 

__

">_<" 

__

"No." Gabriel groaned, dropping his head in his hands. "Please tell me you didn't go out with that...woman. Christ" he huffed, throwing his arms up, "don't you have any standards?"

__

Castiel didn't know what to say to that. He could deny it, tell Gabriel that it never happened, but why bother? "It was only the one time." He confessed, no longer caring how Gabriel would react. 

__

"Well," Gabriel cackled, "you sure do know how to pick em!" 

__

Castiel frowned, but didn't argue. Gabriel was absolutely right. Up to that point, all if his past choices had been...questionable, but certainly nothing to laugh at. "Gabriel," he gritted, tone full of warning, "there's nothing amusing about any of this-"

__

"I couldn't agree more." Gabriel replied, snickering, "But, if you stop and think about it, it is pretty hilarious." 

__

"I don't see how-" Castiel 

__

"Sure you do." Gabriel insisted. "Here we were worried you'd do something stupid like hook-up with that dirty double-crosser, Meg, when in reality, you were already screwing around with the lawman. Guess the joke's on us, huh?"

__

"I wasn't screwing around with Dean." Castiel claimed, because what happened between them was so much more than just sex. "What Dean and I did...it was just one time, and will never happen again."

__

"Right." Gabriel nodded, then asked, "And does he also know you're the reason he managed to escape Alistair's house of horrors?"

__

Castiel's grip jerked on the steering wheel, but he managed not to swerve that time - images of a barely conscious Dean strapped to Alistair's rack, still haunted him. "No." He exhaled, taking a sharp turn onto their street. "Dean doesn't know I'm the one that stopped Alistair that night. Nor will he ever."

__

"And why the heck not?" Gabriel asked, Castiel's silence made no sense to him. "Seriously, if the guy knew what you did for him," he whistled, waggled his brows, "I guarantee you, Dean would be really, really, like super-duper grateful."

__

"I don't want Dean's gratitude." Castiel replied, terse but with a grin; his brother was an idiot, but a well-meaning one. "Now, if you don't mind, no more interruptions. I have to-"

__

"Yeah, yeah," Gabriel cut in, waving Castiel off, "I know all about your rituals. You need to prep for your meeting with Alastair tonight. Or..." He paused, mischievous smirk on his face, "is it Dean you need to get all pretty for?"

__

Castiel threw his brother a baleful glare, but did his best to control his temper. "I'm never seeing him again. I already told you that." 

__

"Yeah, you did." Gabriel replied, tapping absently at his chin. "I mean, back at the diner you said you were staying behind to pay for the check." He shrugged, as if to say 'touché'. "And now your telling me you need to get ready to catch Daemon. But then, we get here, and that monster's only known survivor is also in the same town as he is." Gabriel shook his head, tsked, "I gotta say, this can't be a coincidence. I mean, don't you find it...strange?" 

__

Castiel didn't. On the contrary, he knew that sooner or later, Alistair would be back for Dean. "It makes perfect sense." He said, pointing out what Gabriel already knew. "Alistair has come to collect his trophy."

__

Gabriel nodded, pointed right back, "And we're here to stop him, right? We're gonna catch him, lock him up, and keep your boyfriend's pretty face safe from that creep's blade. That's why we're here." Gabriel laid his hand on Castiel's forearm, stressed, "Is that why you're using Dean as bait?"

__

Castiel's teeth clicked and he growled, furious Gabriel would think him capable of endangering Dean like that. "How could you suggest such a thing? You know perfectly well that I have been tracking Alistair for years. I have followed him through eight states, and witnessed the aftermath of too many lost lives. My top priority is to stop him before he strikes again. You know this."

__

Gabriel whistled again, a long drawn out note, "You sly sonofabitch." He said, wagging his finger. "You've been following Dean all of this time knowing Alistair was on his trail. Admit it. Those eight states you just mentioned, were the same ones where we spotted the Winchesters."

__

"What? No we didn't."

__

"Aw, gimme a break." 

__

"That's ridiculous-"

__

"Is it though?" Gabriel asked, eyes narrowing as all of the puzzle pieces fell into place. "And here I was thinking that it was just 'blind luck' that every time I went on a hunt with you, I'd run into Sam Winchester. I actually thought it was fate that kept throwing us together." 

__

"You're wrong. I'm here for Alastair. There's no other reason-" 

__

Gabriel threw his head back and laughed. "I call bullshit, little brother. You've been using Dean all of this time. But also watching over him like some kind of guardian angel."

__

Castiel opened his mouth, closed it, he wanted to tell Gabriel that he was wrong, but then they were pulling into their driveway, and Castiel chose to admit the truth, instead.

__


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel waited until they were seated at their kitchen table (beer in hand to fortify his courage) before unburdening himself.

Gabriel held his breath. He knew that whatever Castiel was about to reveal was going to be a big deal. So he grabbed his own beer and took tentative sips while he waited. 

"Tracking Alastair has been...challenging." Castiel started, eyes focused on his drink. "He slips in and out of cities undetected, leaves mutilated bodies and destroyed lives as the only proof that he was ever there to begin with-"

"Hey that's not your fault." Gabriel cut in, protesting his brother's skewed perception on the whole Alistair debacle. "You can't blame yourself for that dick's crimes! You know Crowley was helping him." Though it was a mystery to them all as to why the self-proclaimed 'King of the Underworld', would want to be associated with a low-level degenerate, like Alistair. "Even Luke would have had a tough time locating that douche with Crowley and his crazy crew hiding him."

"Nevertheless," Castiel sighed, slumping from the weight of his guilt, "I'm the one that allowed Alistair to escape, and ever since that night, I've been using Dean as bait to catch him." He snorted, the sound bitter and full of self-loathing. "So technically, you were right. But I swear," Castiel swore, eyes blazing, fist pounding on the table, "Dean has never been in danger. I'd tear Alistair's head from his body before I'd let him get anywhere near-"

"Whoa, how about you dial it back a notch, cowboy? Killing Alistair ain't part of the deal." Gabriel argued, reminding Castiel of their deal with the FBI. "Singer wants him alive, remember?" 

"I do. But I've changed my mind." 

Gabriel's jaw dropped. "Singer needs Alastair alive." He insisted, tone tight with tension. "You gotta stick to the plan, bucko, or it's our hides." 

"Alistair is dying tonight." Castiel promised, undeterred, meeting his brother's anxious gaze with a steely glare of his own. "And there is nothing you can say that will change that."

"Oh really?" Countered Gabriel, pulling up his shirt sleeves and arguing, "Singer said he could put Crowley and his crazy mother away forever with the shit Alistair's got on them. But," he amended, sympathetic to Castiel's thirst for justice, "afterwards, when Singer's got all the information he can squeeze out of that low-life, I can rig it so the aforementioned Mr. Daemon, meets with an unfortunate accident."

Castiel shook his head, it was too risky. "Alistair will never betray his benefactor." 

"Pffht," Gabriel snorted, "sure he will." He was convinced the FBI's plan was going to work. "They'll promise him jail time instead of the death penalty. It's a no-brainier."

Castiel still didn't agree, and he doubted Alistair would either. "Alistair is _not_ going to prison." 

"Sure he is. There's no way Singer's not gonna make him serve out the rest of pathetic life behind bars. And once Crowley and his cronies are off the streets, we'll get our lives back. Mike and Luke will get out. And you and me," Gabriel grinned, "we can finally be free to be what we were trained to be." 

"I'm already free to be what I was trained to be-"

Gabriel laughed, but his expression was pained, "I don't mean just _that_. Cassie, you're more then just a killing-machine." He got up, grabbed two more beers, and when his second bottle was almost empty, added, "Look, this isn't just about Dean anymore, okay. It's about all of us. It's about everything. We gotta do this Singer's way." 

Castiel drained his beer as well, exhaled, "In that case, I suggest Chief Singer pray that one of his other agents finds Alistair, before I do."

Gabriel threw his arms up; he knew he'd lost the battle. "Okay," he sighed, resigned, but oddly content with their newfound course, "fuck Alistair." He shrugged, smiling, "The scumbag deserves what's coming to him." 

"So you're in agreement with what I'm going to do?" Castiel asked, more relieved than he cared to admit. "You realize that by disobeying Singer's very explicit orders we will have put Michael and Lucifer's already precarious position in jeopardy. Are you ready to suffer the repercussions?"

"Yeah." Gabriel said, chewing on a thumbnail. "We'll just have to figure out another way to get Mikey and Lucy out of Singer's cage. Cut another deal with the old guy. No biggie."

Castiel nodded, but then turned sharply to his brother, "But what if he blames Dean for Alistair's death? He'll think Dean killed-" 

"N'ah, if Singer's gonna blame anyone for that creep's death, it'll probably be Sammy." 

"Sammy? Do you mean Sam Winchester? Why? What does he have to do with any of this?" 

"Only everything." Gabriel grinned. "Sam Winchester is freaky obsessed with Alistair, almost as bad as you are." 

Castiel nodded again, impressed; there was more to Sam Winchester than he initially thought. 

"Every night, right before tucking himself into bed, Sammy spends hours scanning national data bases for any signs of Alistair. He searches for reports on any new victims, maps out Alistair's latest known hideouts, records his last known locations-"

"Are you telling me it's been Sam tracking Alistair cross country all of this time? And not Dean?"

"Dean? N'ah. He wants nothing to do with Alistair. Never even wants to talk about it. It drives Sammy nuts, too, I'll tell you that much. Like being tortured and then raped - aw geesh." Gabriel winced, face palming from the look of rage on his brother's face. 

"Look," he resumed, but with more tact, "I know you like Dean, but he's been through the grinder. A guy like that," Gabriel tutted, "he's got to have some serious baggage. Like I said, Sammy tries to get him to talk, to get some professional help, but nada."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Just that, well, he's probably not a good choice for you right now." Gabriel flinched, as if expecting a blow, eyes scrunched against the impact, but nothing happened. 

"I'm not going to hit you." 

"I know." Gabriel said, wiping at his brow as if relieved.

"And how long have you been meeting with Sam Winchester?" 

"Pretty much since Singer recruited us."

"Three years?"

"Yup." 

"..."

"Well?"

"Well what?" 

"Aren't you surprised?"

Castiel shook his head, "No."

"Aw, come on!" Gabriel protested. "That was an awesome 'plot twist'!"

"Frankly," Castiel sighed, "the only thing that surprises me about any of this, is that you managed to keep you're relationship with Sam Winchester a secret for this long."

"Heh, well, guess I'm full of surprises. But," Gabriel added, tone gone serious, "Luke already knew about him and me."

Castiel raised his brows. "And he didn't reprimand you?" 

"'Course not. He's the one that pointed Sammy out to me in the first place. Back when their dad came to our house. You were there, too. Remember?"

Castiel nodded, of course he remembered that day, it was the first time he laid eyes on Dean Winchester. And even though Dean couldn't have been more than eleven years old at the time, Castiel could tell that the young boy had already survived a life full of grief. "That was twenty years ago." Castiel said, more confused then ever. "But you've only been meeting with Sam for the past three?"

"Yeah." Gabriel replied, as if the answer should have been obvious. "And don't look at me like that. It's not like I was about to go up to him _that_ day and ask him to be my boyfriend." He rolled his eyes, scoffed, "He was what, six, seven years old. Pah-leez, I had more important stuff to think about back then, than some crying little kid." 

Castiel nodded, but he knew better. He was there too, and witnessed first hand how upset Gabriel had become with John Winchester when he refused to allow his boys to enter the house. Gabriel had protested, loudly, but when their own father ordered him to go to his bedroom, Gabriel defiantly headed to the Winchester's mammoth black car instead, and rapped persistently on the car's window until the glowering older boy lowered it enough for him to hand the crying younger boy, a lollipop.

And Luke encouraged it. 

"So when exactly did you and Sam officially rekindle your acquaintance?"

"Well, after hearing Luke go on and on about Sam Winchester _for years_ -"

"Yes, I remember our brother mentioning Sam-"

"Mentioning him? Are you kidding me? Luke talked about him all of the time. After a while, I figured I had to check him out for myself, see what all the hoopla was about. And when I did," Gabriel sighed, placed his hand over his heart, "it was lust at first sight."

"And this was how long ago?" 

"Two years now." 

Castiel nodded. It had been a day full of revelations, for both brothers. But the rest of Gabriel's story would have to wait. He was running out of time, and needed to focus on Alistair.

"By the way, I know which motel they're staying at."

Castiel's eyes shot back to his brother; _that_ got is attention. "You know where Dean is staying?" 

"Yupppp. Sam texted me the address."

Castiel exhaled a heavy breath, pinched the bridge of his nose; the stress of chasing Alistair was getting to him.

"So...if wanna go and pay Dean-o a visit," Gabriel offered, not sure why his brother was suddenly more upset, "I can lead you there."

"I'll...think about it." Castiel replied, though haltingly. 

"What the hell is there to think about?" 

"Everything." Castiel snapped, overwhelmed with the enormity of how much was at stake; he honestly didn't know where to begin. But he did know that meeting privately with Dean (in his hotel room, no less) would be disastrous. 

"My focus is on Alistair." He repeated, eager to kill Alistair and get it over with. "And after I'm done with him, we need to find a way to free Michael and Lucifer." 

But it was easier said than done. In order for their plans to work (and for them to come out of that whole mess alive) they needed the Winchester's help. But how to get Dean and Sam to trust them without also alerting the Milton family's so called 'allies', of their true motives? Crowley and his cruel band of assassins would reign havoc if they ever suspected the Milton family was colluding with the FBI.

Castiel needed to be careful. 

"Hey, what's that?" Gabriel asked, eyeballing a business card Castiel had just pulled from his pocket.

"This is Dean Winchester's business card." 

"You gotta be shitting me." Gabriel laughed, plucking the card from between Castiel's fingers and studying it, eyes zeroing in on the FBI logo. "Man, what is he suicidal or just stupid? No wonder you two hooked up. You actually managed to find someone more reckless than you."

Castiel frowned in reply; Gabriel's remark was unfair, although not entirely untrue. "I'm going to ask Dean to meet me tonight, out at the bar Alistair was spotted casing. And I want you to make sure someone on Crowley's team knows that's where Dean will be. They'll alert Alistair, I'll catch him, kill him, and once he's dead," Castiel said, snatching back Dean's card and re-pocketing it, "Dean will be the key to our brothers' freedom." 

"Wow, _you_ are one cold mofo. But I like it." 

Castiel didn't. He hated what he was about to do, but it was the only way to accomplish what had to be done. "Call Meg." He instructed, ignoring his brother's overly dramatic gasp. "Tell her to wait for my signal, and then, when she's sure Dean has his back to her and is completely unaware that he's in our trap, tell her to move in, and...knock him out."

Gabriel grabbed his phone and made the call, while Castiel stood up and started preparing for that evening's mission, all along dreading the consequences of what he was about to do.

But if everything went according to plan, then not only would Crowley get locked up for life, but the Milton family's name would finally be cleared. That meant Castiel could come out, so to speak, and be free to pursue a 'friendship' with Dean Winchester (if Dean still wanted one, that is), delete his own name from the FBI's most wanted list, and finally be known simply as, FBI agent, Castiel Milton. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for part three. Any thoughts on the whole flashback and different points of view? It was challenging for me, but I hope it worked for you.
> 
> I'll be picking up the pace, a bit, for part four. Get the ball rolling with more 'real-time' interaction between Dean and Castiel. Things are going to be getting pretty bumpy.


End file.
